


Against That Time, If Ever That Time Come

by Feelforfaith



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 10:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18259409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feelforfaith/pseuds/Feelforfaith
Summary: The scars whisper to Loki in the language only he understands. His fingers move over the unmarred skin, summoning the scars to the surface. Under his touch, they blossom and breathe like living beings before they disappear again. Loki delights in them.In his bed, among the sea of silk sheets wrinkled now and damp with their sweat, Thor stretches, naked and beautiful like a summer morning.





	Against That Time, If Ever That Time Come

The scars whisper to Loki in the language only he understands. His fingers move over the unmarred skin, summoning the scars to the surface. Under his touch, they blossom and breathe like living beings before they disappear again. Loki delights in them.

In his bed, among the sea of silk sheets wrinkled now and damp with their sweat, Thor stretches, naked and beautiful like a summer morning, muscles shifting, tensing, relaxing—his body a canvas of a thousand stories, and Loki has witnessed them all. But even with his golden skin and lightening behind blue eyes, Thor would not be as exquisite without the scars.

He touches Thor's lower back. "Turn over."

Thor does, his mussed hair scattering over the pillow like a waterfall. It's longer now than it has ever been before, and Loki enjoys it this way, with braids he likes to loosen up, so they fall apart as Loki does in Thor's hands.

He straddles Thor's thighs and runs his fingers over Thor's chest, grazing his nipples. Thor arches up into his hands, and Loki is astounded—always, again and again—that he is allowed to touch this way. 

Dawn must be closing in on the night, and they haven't slept yet, but sleep is not on his mind when he has Thor in his bed.

His fingers hover over Thor's face, and a clean, narrow slash shows on Thor's cheek—a memento of when his dagger slipped out of his hand while they sparred because he was still learning how to control his magic. The dagger might not have been real, but it left a real scar on Thor's face. The edges of the scar reach out to each other like separated lovers, wanting to close over the flesh between them to make the skin perfect again, but that has always been Loki's privilege. He smooths the scar out with his fingertips, vanishing it from his sight.

Thor's cock is pressing against his thigh, and Loki is getting hard again, delicious friction of anticipation.

"Do you remember when you fought the giant wolf with your bare hands?" He scratches his fingernails down Thor's chest hard enough to make Thor feel, and four gashes wake under the skin of Thor's right collarbone and cross down his chest, winding around his hip, their edges jagged and crimson.

The corners of Thor's eyes crinkle when he smiles. "I do. I won that fight, too." 

Loki traps the ends of the scars under his palm and kisses them away, slithering up Thor's body, until they are face to face.

"That's not how I remember it." His hair falls down, brushing Thor's face, teasing. Thor spreads his legs, and Loki settles between them with an intimate familiarity of being where he belongs.

"And how would you know?" Thor reaches up and tucks some of Loki's hair behind his ear, corners of his mouth curling up. "You were hiding behind a tree." 

"I was not hiding. Merely observing from a safe distance." Loki shakes his head impatiently, making his hair fall loose again. Thor and his need to always see Loki's face when they are in bed. "Fighting that creature was foolish." 

"But you were proud of me?" Thor slips his fingers into Loki's hair and tugs to pull his head down.

Loki puts up a token effort to resist before he allows Thor to bring their mouths together. 

"I was." He closes his eyes and lets Thor kiss the air out of him.

He watched, transfixed, how Thor wrestled with the wolf, excitement sparking hot through him when the claws of the wolf ripped through Thor's skin as easily as they ripped through the fabric of his tunic. He stood with his eyes open wide, blood surging through his veins and his body thrumming with arousal at the thought of the scars those wounds were going to turn into—they were glorious. They still are.

Thor's mouth tastes of sweet grapes and of cinnamon Loki used to spice their wine, and when they break apart, he rests his head on his open palm, tracing Thor's lower lip with the thumb of his other hand. 

"You have always been reckless with your body," he says with pleasure in his voice disguised as disapproval. "You should take better care of it."

"It's a good thing I have you then." Thor chases Loki's fingers with his mouth, pressing kisses to the fingertips. He covers Loki's hand with his own and nuzzles Loki's palm. "To heal all my scars."

Thor can't see his scars, and Loki revels in having something of Thor's that belongs to him only, to nobody else, not even to Thor. If it's selfish of him, so be it. 

"What would you ever do without my magic?" he says, cocking his head.

Thor smoothes his hands down Loki's back, grips his hips and holds him tight. "What would I ever do without _you?"_

The words wrap around Loki like a cloak on a cold night. "What, indeed."

He skims his fingers over Thor's forehead and touches his right eye where a scar appears Loki has not seen before—angry red and blackened skin covers the whole eye. Unlike the other scars, this one is hideous, but he can't resist touching it. The scar whispers of rage and destruction, and pain neither of them has ever experienced before, and Loki is drawn to it with gruesome curiosity, the roots of which he would rather not examine too closely.

Not all scars are from the past. Some belong to the time that has not come to pass yet. 

With his fingers, he reaches into the future and searches for other scars that will come after this one. He touches Thor's arms, his chest, his stomach, his thighs but finds nothing. Just ... nothing. 

His mind recoils like a frightened animal, and he drops his head hiding his face behind his hair. His chest expands with a shallow inhale as if he were trying to breathe against an armor of iron fitted too tight. 

Thor cups Loki's chin in his hand, forcing his head up. "Loki, what is it?"

Loki tilts his head back, pulling out of Thor's grasp. "Nothing."

"Something is troubling you."

"It's nothing, I promise." Even Thor can be fooled by his smile when Loki wants him to. "I need you inside me again." He brings his mouth to Thor's neck and licks a wet path along it, grinding his hips against Thor. "Unless you need more time to recover?" 

Thor laughs. The frown of worry on his face has transformed into ripples of delight. He wraps his arms around Loki and rolls them both over, so Loki is on his back under him—his favorite way to be with Thor, though Loki would never admit it out loud.

"You will beg me to stop before I'm done with you," Thor's rumbles as he lifts one of Loki's legs over his shoulder. 

Loki accommodates him, sliding lower on the bed. He fumbles for the vial with oil on the bedside table. "I do _not_ beg."

"Oh, we will see." 

Thor is leaving a trail of kisses and nips along Loki's calf that make him tremble like a virgin on a wedding night, and he has no doubt whatsoever which one of them will be proven right. With Thor's eyes focused on him, wanting, craving, greedy, it feels like he's waiting for rain after a scorching day and seeing thunderclouds appearing over the horizon. 

Thor pushes into him, sliding his cock into Loki in long deliberate thrusts that drive Loki into the bedsheets. Each thrust— _deeper, deeper, deeper_ —draws a gasp from his mouth; each thrust opens him up more for Thor and shuts his mind off to everything else but Thor above him, so close, his hair falling in loose strands, drops of sweat forming on his forehead. 

"Good?" Thor's hands are digging into Loki's thighs, holding him in place, anchored.

"Splendid," Loki manages in a stuttered exhale. "As always." 

He does not beg with words, but with his hands holding on so tight, they are leaving bruises on Thor's back, with his body arching off the bed to meet Thor's thrusts, with his teeth biting Thor's lip when Thor leans down to kiss him. 

"You do beg so elegantly," Thor's says with a twinkle in his eyes, slowing the movements of his hips, taking his time now, obviously gratified to see Loki breaking into pieces.

Under other circumstances, Loki would argue, but he learned a long time ago that for all the skill of his tongue, he cannot win when Thor is holding him on the edge of an orgasm, so he concedes another defeat and vows to take his revenge later. 

He is well past shame when he moans and reaches up to grip the head of the bed for purchase. "Harder." 

"You are insatiable."

"Is that a complaint?"

"Never." 

Thor shoves his hands under Loki's hips to bring him closer and changes the angle of his body. He quickens his rhythm, fucking into Loki without teasing, without finesse, and Loki's lips forget how to shape words.

His fingernails like daggers are cutting into Thor's back, desperate to leave marks. Sparks explode around the edges of his vision, and his muscles shake trying to let Thor deeper into his body, to make it last forever. Thor holds him through it and kisses him through it and whispers nonsense against Loki's mouth of which Loki understands one word only, his own name, until there is nothing left of him but dust. 

When Thor comes, too, and collapses on the bed next to Loki, streaks of blood from his back are soaking into the white sheets. 

"What was that for?" Thor asks as if not sure if he should be annoyed or amused.

Loki's first instinct is to say, _I'm sorry, I got carried away,_ but he decides on the truth instead. "So you remember me."

Thor narrows his eyes. "You speak in riddles, Loki. Why would I forget you? We will always be together, won't we?" His fingers linger when he reaches out to tuck Loki's hair behind his ear again.

This time, Loki doesn't protest. He covers Thor's hand with his own and presses it to his cheek, breathing in slowly. "Yes, we will." 

He leans over Thor and brings their mouths together. Now that they are both sated, the kiss is no less sweet but leisurely instead of urgent, and Thor's fingers tangle in his hair like travelers with no other destination to hurry to.

The cuts on Thor's back will leave scars Loki has no intention of healing—they are his gift. They will whisper his name to Thor in the language only Thor will be able to understand.

Thor wraps his arms around him, and Loki lays his head on Thor's chest and listens to the beating of his brother's heart.


End file.
